


Chaos: flashbacks

by taralynden



Series: Chaos [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralynden/pseuds/taralynden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse back into the past of Chaos'verse - two different views on Prowl's arrival aboard the <em>Ark</em>, otherwise known as <em>'The story of that one time when Prime got overcharged and helped Sideswipe with a prank'</em> from Chapter 5 of "Chaos came with a bang"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting to know you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prime's version

Optimus Prime was well aware that his role was far more boring than most of the Autobots realised, and that a goodly part of his orn involved reading reports and then acting on the information within them. But some orns it seemed that he barely had time to complete the reading alone, and that problem had only increased since his previous security director had been invalided back to Cybertron. Red Alert was a good choice for replacement, but he was also quite... zealous... in his duties.

Putting down the report he had been reading - the fourth this decaorn listing reasons that the twins should be transferred to another unit - and rose from his seat. He understood Red Alert's concerns and they were not entirely baseless, but that did not mean he would simply accept the advice without investigation of his own. Balancing up the security team's concerns about their illegal off-duty activities were the sterling reports from Ironhide and others about their work on the battlefield. For their current situation that was more important. And to be honest, none of the pranks they had pulled had seemed that damaging to morale.

Additionally, their less-than-above-board activities had their benefits. He had occasionally had Ironhide procure a cube or two of high grade from them when he had had a bad orn, and he knew that others regularly did so. Then there was the way that Sideswipe seemed to be able to get his hands on pretty much anything a mech could name. If that mech were willing to pay the going rate, at least.

In any case, Optimus had been thinking a lot recently about how he needed to know his soldiers better. To understand them. Front line soldiers in particular could become quite... quirky... and required special handling. It came from living under major stress for long periods and having to do damage to others that in a more civilised era would be utterly abhorrent and yet now was entirely essential for survival. So to make an impartial judgement he really needed to try to see the situation from their perspective.

Then he could go back to Red Alert and assure him that everything was under control and hopefully the number of reports would decrease.

"Prime?" Ironhide asked as he walked out of his office into the command centre. "Finishing early today?"

"Yes, I thought I might. Care to join me?"

"Don't forget that Red Alert's new discipline sergeant is due to arrive in two joors." Spectre warned.

Optimus nodded at his Chief of Special Operations, waving off the concern.

"I'm sure the introductions can wait until tomorrow. The mech will no doubt be tired after his travel, in any case."

"You know what Red's like about protocol."

"Then he'll have to come and find me." Optimus said simply, though he also set an alert on his chronometer so that he would be prepared.

"So what are you planning?" Ironhide asked shrewdly as they walked towards the nearest bank of lifts.

"I think it's time I had a good chat with the twins. Over some high grade, perhaps. Any idea where they would be right now?"

Ironhide laughed.

"Yeah, Prime, I think I can find them."

* * *

A joor - or so - later, Optimus rather unsteadily set down his cube of energon as he fought through his overcharge haze to deal with an alert that had popped up on his HUD. Something about a new arrival?

"What's wrong?" Sideswipe asked.

He stared blankly at the red twin with whom he had just been having quite a lot of fun - and drinking _a lot_ of high grade - then was distracted again by the alert. Dismissing it, he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm supposed to be at my office greeting the new discipline sergeant." he sighed.

"Boooring." Sideswipe declared.

Optimus laughed.

"Yes, it will be."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Optimus picked up his cube again. He really should finish it before going; it would be rude to waste it.

"Doesn't have to be, though." Sideswipe offered thoughtfully.

"What?" Optimus asked blankly.

"Doesn't have to be boring. You could welcome him _properly_. I mean, what makes a discipline officer feel more at home than something to to discipline someone over?"

"You mean play a prank on him?" Optimus realised.

It was totally ridiculous. He was the Prime, he couldn't possibly consider doing any such thing.

And yet, wasn't that why he was here? To get to know Sideswipe better?

It couldn't be _that_ bad, right?

"What've you got in mind?"

* * *

His part was merely to use his override to gain access to the mech's private quarters. They were completely bare at the moment since the previous incumbent had taken everything with him when he transferred back to Iacon. Getting in had been far more difficult than it should have been because he kept hitting the wrong keys, but he got there eventually with Sideswipe's help.

Sideswipe seemed strangely sober for someone who had been drinking for the past... however long it had been... Optimus thought fuzzily as he watched the twins setting up the precariously balanced container of gloopy over-processed energon.

Convenient, too, how Sunstreaker just happened to have it on hand. Almost made him think they'd planned this in advance...

"Okay, done. Come on." Sideswipe grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, Sunstreaker following and carefully placing the pressure plate on the floor before closing the door.

"Now what?" he asked, strangely exhilarated by the experience.

"Now we wait and look innocent." Sideswipe answered.

"Which _you_ never manage." Sunstreaker snorted.

Optimus stumbled and reached out to brace himself a nearby wall.

"You okay, big bot?" Sideswipe asked.

"Guess I drank a bit more than I meant to." Optimus considered, then laughed. "I didn't think it'd be this much fun."

"It won't be tomorrow." Sunstreaker muttered, shaking his head and walking off.

"Sunny! You can't just leave me here with him like this!" Sideswipe protested.

"It's okay, Sideswipe. You go. I'll just wait here for a moment until I can walk straight."

Sideswipe didn't seem convinced, but Optimus didn't care. Where was the fun in a prank if he couldn't be around to watch it come off? Distantly he knew that that meant he would also be caught, but then his intention had never really been to go undetected. Simply to understand where Sideswipe was coming from. And now he did.

This was _fun_.

* * *

This was no longer fun.

His morning had started all too early with a long interrogation from a smug Red Alert, then to be passed on to an entirely unimpressed and unsympathetic Ratchet, and now he stood in the hallway outside the discipline sergeant's office trying to determine how he was going to apologise to the mech he was going to rely upon to maintain order on this ship.

He had only the vaguest memory of a large, imposing mech with a coldly sober voice. A quick refresh of the data from Prowl's file told him the mech was in fact Praxian, an ex-Enforcer with a specialty in tactical simulation, which only left him more confused. What was someone with specialist tactical programming doing in security and not in strategy? He would have to talk to Scope about that later, though. Right now he had an apology to make, and he had dithered in this corridor for long enough.

Normally he would just enter the office - usually summoned as a witness to various infractions - but this time he politely requested entry. Best not to antagonise the mech any further.

He was pinged with approval immediately and impersonally, so he opened the door and went in.

His first impression was that the mech sitting at the desk seemed a great deal smaller than he had thought. Perfectly standard for a Praxian build, with the standard monotone colouration of an Enforcer, with the red and gold helm highlights to indicate that he had held significant rank. How _had_ this mech ended up being nothing more than a junior security officer?

Prowl rose and nodded to him politely.

"Prime. Are you here to review my assignment to this role or in regards to last night's incident?"

"Firstly for last night." Optimus admitted.

"I see." Prowl said neutrally, resuming his seat and gesturing for Optimus to sit on the bench. "I have reviewed your record and it seems that this is highly unusual behaviour for you, with no prior instances of a similar nature. My superior believes you may have been coerced into involvement. It is objectively true that you were highly intoxicated while your companions were considerably more sober. For these reasons, I belive no further censure is warranted. Do you have anything to add before I finalise the determination?"

"I wasn't coerced. I had hoped to better understand them by joining in with some of their activities. It got out of hand, and I want to apologise for what occurred, but I had not expected there to be any harm done. Red Alert has been very negative towards Sideswipe in particular, and I don't think it's justified. The pranks he plays are a method of stress release..."

He trailed off uncomfortably as the other mech simply stared at him, and he gave in.

"May I know what you intend as punishment for him and his brother?"

"They will be cleaning out the washrack waste filters for the next decaorn. A task which will discomfort them to a similar degree as they did me. For the record, Prime, they have also admitted that they planned to go ahead with the prank prior to your involvement and they insist that all you did was give them access to the room, something which they could have managed themselves since they had already obtained an override code via other means. They have been honest about their role, and I see no reason to act harshly. Nor to endorse Red Alert's request that they be transferred away. Their field record clearly establishes their value here; they merely need some level of control applied to their recreational activities. Now if that is all, there is much I must familiarise myself with."

Optimus shook his head, dizzied by the mech's efficiency and clear analytical approach, not assisted by the lingering overcharge effects making his processor run sluggishly. Perhaps that was why he spoke so plainly.

"Prowl, is this truly the best role for you? Your file says you have a tactical background."

The mech had begun working on his terminal and did not look up.

"I have a glitch, Prime. I'm sure your Chief Tactical Officer can explain in detail why I am no longer part of that team, but for now I have a job to do and am content to serve as I may."

Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Optimus rose and hurried out, glancing back over his shoulder as the door closed.

A very strange mech, that one. And with something of a backstory which was no doubt an interesting tale, but Optimus would not start by going directly to Scope. His CTO was a gifted strategist and a good officer, but he did tend to be unforgiving of mistakes and mecha with flaws. No, this was something to look into a little more quietly, perhaps with the assistance of the special ops team.

Spectre's lieutenant was an aimiable mech, seemingly able to befriend anyone and everyone. Perhaps he could get the story from Prowl directly. Pleased, he sent off a message.

~Spectre? My office, two breems. And bring Jazz with you, please?~


	2. Order in the chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl's version

"I'm so glad you're here." Red Alert began chattering before Prowl even stepped off the shuttle. "You would not _believe_ what your predecessor has let go on here! Well, you _will_ believe it because I can show you the footage, but it's been unbearable. They need some proper discipline, particularly the frontliners. Switchblade should have called you in vorns ago."

"He has long felt my skills were a better fit at Tyger Pax." Prowl commented serenely, nodding in thanks to the shuttle who had transformed back into root mode now that his passengers had disembarked. "It is less clear why he has changed his opinion at this stage."

Red Alert frowned at the other new arrivals who had wandered over to the viewport and were staring out into empty space, but kept up his side of the conversation.

"He was never the problem, it was Scope who wanted you kept away, but that's a non-issue now. Switchblade was injured in the battle last decaorn, badly enough that he's been sent back to Iacon and I've been promoted. I always said I'd get you out of that waste of a role when I got the chance, and here you are. Now I know it's not what you'd prefer - you _should_ be on the tactical team - but once Prime sees you at work things will change."

Prowl shook his head.

"I'm grateful. But you shouldn't expect too much; I certainly do not. Scope is unlikely to alter his opinion of me, and so long as he is Chief Tactical Officer I am unlikely to be reinstated to my former rank."

"Well more fool him, then." Red Alert huffed. "So what if you have a glitch? Half this crew are glitched, and the other half are certifiably insane! You'll fit right in here. Anyway, it's his loss. You're just what I need in the security team. You don't mind reporting to me? It was the other way around in Polyhex, I know."

"I am comfortable with the role offered, and the limits on my authority."

Red Alert nodded approvingly.

"I knew you would be. And you are going to be just what I need, getting this rabble under control. But now about these others you've brought with you? They'll need to be cleared. Who are they?"

"The Praxian is Bluestreak. I believe I told you I had adopted him after the destruction of Praxus?"

"Oh yes, I recall."

"The black Polyhexian is Trailbreaker. He's designated as a scout but he has some skill with defensive strategy. I am hoping he might be accepted by the tactical team in a junior role, but if not he makes an adequate administrative assistant."

"Once he's cleared." Red Alert mused, then turned away. "Come along, I want to introduce you to the Prime."

"I don't need to be cleared first?" Prowl asked.

"Not you." Red Alert shook his head. "I did your checks yesterday, before you arrived."

* * *

The Prime was not in his office, so Red Alert took him on a tour of the ship. Along the way they met various other officers, including the medic who scheduled him for a check-up and made rather disturbing threats of what might happen if he should fail to arrive at the appointed time. Prowl asked whether he should be concerned about that, and the answer from Red Alert was inconclusive: it seemed that this was the medic's usual demeanour, and yet the threats should not be entirely discounted.

"He is only one of many to watch closely." the security director muttered darkly, glaring at a passing blue and white figure. "I'll give you a list."

On the command deck they encountered the CTO and Prowl nodded politely at Scope who seemed less than impressed to see him.

"You needn't think just because you're on board that I'm going to let you be transferred into my division." he was warned.

"I have no such expectations." he assured him.

Still, it was very hard not to look at the screen behind him and immediately spot several flaws in the plans being developed.

Eventually Red Alert decided that they had done enough of an orientation and should get some energon before he retired for the orn. His duties would start first shift tomorrow, and there were several investigations that needed to be carried out.

But when they got to the fourth deck recreation room, it was clear that he might have to start early.

The room was filled with mecha who had clearly been drinking far too much high grade. Given that he knew such fuel was strictly rationed aboard starships it was also probably illegally manufactured and distributed. His old Enforcer programming coming to the fore, he half-consciously flared his sensor panels and raised his voice.

"Who is responsible for this?"

There was a brief silence, then one of them lurched unsteadily towards him.

"Who th'frag're you?"

"I am the newly appointed crew discipline sergeant." Prowl snapped. "And all of you are breaking numerous regulations. Red Alert, can we please have a security team sent here to ensure no-one leaves until I have spoken to all involved?"

The security director was positively beaming at him.

"Already organised. It's _good_ to have you on ship, Prowl. Everything is going to go _so_ much more smoothly."

* * *

It was well into his scheduled recharge period when he had finally finished processing all of the drunk mecha. Most were guilty only of accepting illegal fuel, though three turned out to have been drunk while on duty, and one of those was an officer - the Prime's own weapons specialist. Dismayed at the blatant disregard for the non-fratenisation rules on top of everything else, Prowl had double-checked with Red Alert before interviewing that mech, but the security director simply assured him that the crew were too accustomed to lax discipline, so Prowl had sent Ironhide to the brig for two joors to set an example which might dissuade other officers from behaving so poorly.

Heading back to his as-yet-unseen quarters, he wondered again whether this was a clever move. Scope did not want him on board and had spent vorns ensuring he was positioned a long way from the frontline. They both knew why, and it was nothing Prowl had ever wanted to challenge even though it saw him relegated to some marginal roles when he was sure he could do more elsewhere. He had expected to see out the war in that way, and yet here he was, with an entirely unexpected summons from Red Alert.

He smiled faintly. The security director had done well for himself since they had been stationed together at Polyhex nearly four centuries earlier. It was good to see the mech's talents being recognised and used appropriately in spite of his glitch.

Two corridors from his destination he was distracted from his thoughts as he passed a large mech slumped in a doorway, giggling quietly to himself. The mech was obviously overcharged and had probably forgotten the access code to his quarters Prowl decided, sweeping past without stopping. One of his first duties would probably be dealing with the availability of illicit high grade.

Reaching his assigned room around a corner, he keyed in the code Red Alert had given him and spared the time to reset it to a code of his own choice. Satisfied, he opened the door and stepped inside.

He had a fraction of a click's notice that something was wrong - a noise above him and the sense of air movement across his doorwings - and then he was doused in something wet. And sticky.

Reeling backwards in a reflexive desire to avoid any further attack, he ended up back in the hall before he had even identified the substance, at which point he wished fervently that he had been cautious enough to have avoided getting caught. It was over-processed energon in its liquid form, good only for conversion into solid energon sticks. Though not corrosive, it was nevertheless very difficult to remove because of its tendency to stick to nanite-covered plating. Particularly aboard a starship where water and cleanser were strictly rationed.

Dismayed, he paused where he was for a moment, not quite sure what action to take. He needed to wash it off, but he would need help. Bluestreak had not gotten security clearance yet, which meant either going to the medical bay for assistance - something he immediately discounted upon thought of the earlier reception with the ship's CMO - or calling Red Alert and admitting that he had been caught out by such an obvious trap. Perhaps not such an admission, he mused as he spotted a camera nearby; the security director probably already knew.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, he was about to ping the ship's computer to send a message when he heard sniggering. The desire to be clean quickly overriden by the desire to find the culprits, he turned and found that the large mech he had seen before had moved closer and was nearly doubled over with laughter.

"And just what is so funny?" he demanded coolly.

"Th-they're right." the mech chortled. "It _is_ funny to play pranks!"

Irritation honed into sharp focus, he loomed over the mech.

"I see." he said icily. "And who are _they_?"

* * *

Red Alert charged into the brig, stopped short when he saw the Praxian covered in congealed energon, stared at the three mechs who were imprisoned in the first cell, then glared at the guard who had pinged him but had clearly not given nearly enough information.

"Prowl? A word, please?"

Prowl followed him back out into the corridor and across to the security office beyond.

"Do you have any idea who that is you've locked up?"

"I know precisely who they are." Prowl responded without so much as a doorwing flicker. "They are the ones responsible for my current dissheveled state."

"You've locked up the _Prime_!"

"Who should know better than to get drunk and play pranks." Prowl countered.

Red Alert frowned.

"You can prove it?"

"He confessed." Prowl said simply, then frowned slightly. "Perhaps more because of his current drunken state than for any other cause, but I do not believe he will recant. You could ask him yourself, I'm sure he will say the same."

"I might just do that." Red Alert considered. "Go and get cleaned up then get some charge. You can start with second shift rather than first tomorrow."

Stalking forward, he stared into the cell. So he had a willing confessor did he? All the worse for the twins, then. Time for a chat.

* * *

Prowl left the security office at the ordered dismissal, still covered in energon and now without a colleague to assist him. Resigning himself to the fate of facing the medical team, he headed for the lift. But just as he got there another mech joined him.

"Whoa, mech, you are a mess!"

He did not turn, feeling far too tired to deal with this particular mech at this point. Or at all today, really.

"Thank you for stating the very obvious. Can I help you with something?"

"Doubt it, but it sure looks like I could help _you_."

"Your concern is unnecessary, I will seek assistance from the medics."

The lift arrived and he stepped in, but the other mech followed and chose the accommodation level before he could select his destination, then grinned at him.

"Lemme take ya home. I've got just the cleanser for that sorta muck; the twins play that trick often enough on newbies."

"And do you take them all back to your quarters?" Prowl asked dubiously.

"All the pretty ones, sure." was the lascivious response.

Prowl considered. If mecha were accustomed to seeing Jazz take mecha back to his room then perhaps it would not be considered unusual. And knowing Jazz, the mech's room would be the most secure place on the ship. Somewhere they might actually be able to talk.

* * *

Prowl certainly _was_ in a messy state, Jazz mused as he worked the cleanser into the other mech's plating. Water was rationed to the point where they couldn't simply have it running through the process; they needed to loosen it all up first then do a quick rinse. He may have enough rank to have a personal washrack but wasting water would only cause more trouble than it was worth.

"I missed ya." he commented abruptly, still scrubbing at Prowl's back. "Didn't think I would, but I did."

Prowl said nothing, and Jazz huffed.

"So? Did you miss me too?"

"You were very clear that you did not want to get entangled." Prowl responded distantly. "And it would be a very poor idea for us to seem too close. If our relationship is discovered..."

"What relationship?" Jazz asked bitterly. "There ain't nothin' t'talk about."

"And I understood you wanted it to remain that way."

"You do too. You're the one who said we couldn't just leave'em all t'frag themselves. That we had t'do our best ta fight this out an' see Megatron gone so one day we _might_ be okay wit' bein' together wit'out paintin' a target on our backs."

"It is still our best option. The Decepticons still target those such as ourselves, and the Autobots will not shelter us. We must give them no reason for suspicion."

"So you're gonna avoid me, then."

"Not avoid." Prowl considered, scratching at a stubborn spot on his wrist. "That would be as noteworthy as anything else. There are those aboard who already know that we know each other; it would seem curious if we were antagonistic without cause. But intimacy is also out of the question."

"Not really." Jazz murmured, letting his hands wander to the side, splaying over the broad sensor panels. "I've shared a berth wit' more'n half the crew. What's one more? Way things are, it'd pro'ly be weirder if we _didn't_ do it sometimes."

Prowl spun about, staring at him.

"You have shared with others?"

"You didn't honestly expect me t'stay celibate, didja?"

"I didn't honestly believe it was physically possible for a bonded mech to share with others."

"There's a whole lotta stuff that's possible that mecha don't believe can be done. But you're makin' assumptions: I never said I'd shared my spark wit' any of'em. I don't _love_ 'em. It was just a bit o'fun is all."

Prowl looked at him assessingly.

"You don't love me, either."

"I barely know ya, mech. An' I'm thinkin' it's time we changed that. I owe ya that much, at least."

"Well then the first thing you should know is that I do not engage in casual liaisons."

"Yeah, you jus' bond to the first mech who'll take ya." Jazz shot back. "Won't it look a bit strange if I suddenly stop? I thought you wanted t'keep this a secret?"

"I do, and yes it would, which is why you will not. Stop, that is. You will continue to have your 'fun' with others, and from an outward perspective I will not be counted amongst those who you spend time with."

Jazz wasn't sure what to make of what Prowl was suggesting but latched on to a single word.

"Outward?"

Prowl gave a pained smile.

"I have also missed you. And hoped that you might be interested in spending time in my company, though without any reason to believe that hope might be answered. Jazz, this is asking a lot. The secret we hold now is difficult enough to conceal without..."

Jazz cut him off with the passionate kiss he had been desperate to enjoy since learning Prowl was coming aboard and did not stop until he was sure Prowl had stopped protesting.

"You're talkin' to the ultimate secrets-keeper." he grinned. "We'll do it cause we have to. Now lets get you clean an' back to your quarters, eh?"

Prowl hesitated.

"You do not wish for me to stay?"

"Nope." Jazz said lightly, then laughed at the almost-pout on the other mech's face. "Secret, remember? Gotta get you home so I can sneak in an' ravish ya when no-one knows I'm there!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: nope, not going to give any more hints about their relationship at this point, you'll have to wait until the main plot line gets there.


End file.
